57. Wigtown trip

Monday September 2^nd  2024

This trip for just four people was arranged back in March, although now I cannot remember why it took us until September before we found a suitable date that we could all sign up to.  It seemed ages off when we booked the cottage, but now here we are.  I’m in Wigtown in SW Scotland with Jim, Jo and JP.  I’ve never been in this region before, but Jo & JP live in Troon so are more familiar with the area.  

Since I had plenty of time to organise this trip, I had planned three full day ride options with a shorter ride scheduled for the first day after our three-hour drive.  It is said that no plan survives first contact with the enemy, and this proved true today, with the enemy being the weather.  It was pretty awful in the morning and forecast not to improve.  So the ride out from Newton Stewart was abandoned in favour of a long lunch before we headed out about 3.45.  

We’d only gone half a mile before we followed a road to Wigtown harbour.  There was a large car park, but on a wet Monday afternoon it was deserted apart from a few people returning from the bird-watching hide. 

We then headed South to a lovely village called Garlieston whose claim to fame is that during WWII it became part of the secret Mulberry Harbour project in preparation for the D-Day landings.  The profile of the beach and sea bed at Garlieston was similar to that of the proposed harbour sites in Normandy.  There’s not much to see there now, so we didn’t stay long.

I’d created this route very quickly after our initial plans were foiled and I’d failed to double check that all the roads were properly paved.  My cycle route app. has an option to select paved or unpaved roads, but we’ve had to agree to disagree on what this actually means.  Anyway, the route today pointed us down a dirt track which I boycotted and found an alternative which turned out to be barely an improvement.  But at least I had chosen a bike with mudguards so I wasn’t too upset by all the slutch but my friends without such additions were less happy.  Needless to say their bikes needed washing when we got home as did they.

It was a pity we had to go out in the rush hour, but in reality we saw barely any traffic which was great.  Long may it continue. I noticed more farm machinery than cars and this is probably why in a very remote village, there were two large agricultural sales establishments on opposite sides of the road.

Jim was in charge of tea tonight, so we enjoyed a delicious home-made veggie curry.  We finished off with a Magnum ice cream (which was not home made).

The cottage is very pretty with everything we need apart from an upstairs toilet. Sadly, those of us who needed the facility in the night were required to pad down the creaky stairs. It’s a very small grumble, though.

Tuesday September 3rd 2024

Wigtown is known as the book capital of Scotland and I could see why it attracted that title. A ride through town yesterday revealed probably more than a dozen bookshops, a few cafes but sadly no restaurants.  There may be a pub, but I’m not sure.  I’m providing the meal for tonight, but tomorrow we’d decided to eat out but now the question is, where?  There is a café open until 8pm, but it doesn’t look terribly inspiring and a chippy which is takeaway only.  I’m sure we’ll find somewhere, but if not, we’ll be stocking up with stuff from the Co-op and making something in the cottage.

The forecast today was fine with rain not expected until 4pm, but soon after we set off we felt drizzle in the air.  Not enough for waterproofs, but annoying all the same.  I think it’s called dreich in these parts.  The worst thing about the miserable weather was that there was no view.   Whether there would have been a view without the mist is anyone’s guess.

By the time we reached the sea, the rain had just about stopped and we made good progress along the coast up to Glenluce.  The initial plan was to head out to Stranraer, but in view of the weather (and that I was told Stranraer doesn’t have a great deal to offer) we decided to loop back. It was late morning and I fancied a coffee so instead of heading back along quiet roads devoid of coffee shops, we chose to head back into the village. 

When we arrived at Glenluce, we were disappointed to find that we were perhaps a couple of years late: the café was derelict and a pub nearby was locked up, perhaps never to reopen, so we resorted to plan C, the local golf club.  The food there was basic but cheap.  It’s also the only place I’ve seen that had a chip menu!  In case you’re wondering, no I didn’t: I had a breakfast roll, which comprised Lorne sausage and fried egg on a bap. At just three quid (and £2 for a cup of tea) it certainly didn’t overcharge.  The diversion meant that we completed a loop before continuing on our way along beautiful, empty roads heading generally downhill with a tailwind. 

We’d have been home sooner had we not spent 10 minutes staring at a distant wind farm.  The blades on three turbines all appeared to us to be going in different directions: one clockwise, one anticlockwise and one seemed to be oscillating rather than rotating!  We knew this couldn’t be so, but we never resolved which way they were actually turning. (I took a video, but I believe there’s a limit to how much boring stuff I can get away with posting!)

You know I have a thing about data, and when I realised that today’s trip would be about 58 miles, I resolved to cycle an extra 4 miles so that, if converted to kilometres, it would be just in excess of 100.  Sad, I know, but very satisfying.  Jim & I achieved this by nipping up a lovely cycle path into Newton Stewart before following the River Cree back to Wigtown.

After a brew and a shower, I headed out on foot to look around the town but when I got to the furthest point from the accommodation, the heavens opened and I got drenched.  But it’s only water and I soon dried out.

Sausage and chorizo casserole (courtesy of Mrs Kellett) with home grown potatoes and French beans for tea tonight: just the ticket!

Showers are forecast again for tomorrow.  It’s looking like September 2024 is shaping up to be a re-run of August with rain every day!

Wednesday September 4^th 2024

Today was bright, dry and calm at 9.15 when we set off on a ride around the peninsula.  Showers were forecast throughout the day, but we counted ourselves very lucky in that we only had one short shower (<10 minutes) towards the end of the day.  Until then, it was lovely and quite sunny for much of the time.  Cold though, for September at <10°C for the first couple of hours which made me want to climb some hills to get warm.  That wasn’t a popular option amongst the others.  

An extraordinary fact today was that, apart from a 15 minute stretch on the A75, we travelled 25 miles without a single car passing us.  Several vehicles drove past in the other direction, but we weren’t counting them.  The A75 was a necessary evil and was why we took some very dubious trails to avoid it  They were technically paved, but had grass growing in the centre, which, in some cases looked like it was ready for baling.  One road was actually moss, which was a bit odd to ride on. 

We traveled about 3½ miles along the trunk road which wasn’t too busy.  There were a few HGVs which gave us plenty of room, thankfully.

The road we followed soon after leaving the A75 was wonderful.  It was more or less flat, no traffic and the weather was dry with a tailwind.  What more could we want?  We saw a wonderful property beside a loch which went by the grand name of Old Place of Mochrum which was originally built in 1385.  It appears that the Mochrum estate was the origin of the Belted Galloway cattle and the cows here were part of the foundation herd of the breed which was only established in 1921. 

The last two miles of descent to the coastal road was the same as yesterday, but today we turned left at the coast rather than right.  By the time we arrived in Port William, I was ready for my lunch which we took in The View café on the harbour.  

I also wanted to extend today’s ride to in excess of 62.2 miles (100km) so I fitted in a couple of diversions down to the sea from the main route.  The first of these was to a beautiful place seemingly without a name and apart from a car park and a golf course, there was nothing there.  The golf course looked very impressive and I suspect that any golfer playing this course would have to be fit: it was very hilly.

On the way back up to the main road, we passed a monument to Gavin Maxwell (he wrote the wonderful book Ring of Bright Water) so we climbed up to admire the statue of Mij the otter. 

The book was later made into a film and the theme tune was a hit for Val Doonican.  I spent the next two hours humming it in my head which was very annoying since I knew none of the words apart from the title.  (You know the idea: ♫ De dum duuum de dum, On a ring of bright wa-ater).  If you want to hear Val’s version, click here.

Our next diversion was requested by Jo after we saw a sign for St Ninian’s cave.  This was 1½ miles along a road, then another ¾ mile down a dirt track followed by a 300 yard walk along a pebbly beach.  It was well worth it, though.  The cave itself was a bit meh, but the area was lovely.

I know we’d just had lunch, but some of the party wanted to eat again so after visiting the white building (which I think was a sort-of lighthouse) on the edge of the cliff, we headed to a café for indulgent cheesecakes and coffee.   The views from the cliff were striking, and we could pick out the Lake District hills to the East and the Isle of Man in the South.  Jo thought she could just see her Mum’s house, so she waved just in case.

The ‘official’ route suggested we follow a tiny road past Garlieston (to boost the mileage), but since we’d already done enough to reach the target today, Jim and I decided to head up an even tinier road to Innerwell Port to gain a couple of unique tiles (these are the ones where no other Veloviewer subscriber has ever been).  We had a debate about whether they could be unique if we’d both been there but we decided to create a new category just for that purpose. 

All day, Jo’s navigational strategy of always following the blue bit of sky worked admirably.  There were rain clouds all around us and even thunder at one point but we stayed dry almost all day, even enjoying sunshine much of the time.  We saw a rainbow about 4.30pm and headed towards that instead, but this was our undoing: we got caught in a brief shower which I decided warranted a rain jacket.  It was only for ten minutes though, and we were soon back in the cottage queueing to use the shower.

We decided against eating out tonight – the town was bereft of suitable eateries – so tonight’s tea was pizzas from the Co-op, and delicious they were too!  Made all the better through us not having to cook.

Thursday September 5^th 2024  

Another dry day was forecast as we were packing up to leave which was very good news.  I’d planned a short ride on Monday which was on our way to the cottage, but the wet weather then caused it to be abandoned.  So today, we decided to do that ride on the way back home instead.  We drove to Newton Stewart and set off along a cycle track which followed the old Port Patrick railway line to Creetown, but not before the route took us over what was the steepest stretch of road that we’ve seen all week.  It only showed as a small blip on the profile, but it must have been 20% and on a wet, slippery surface too.  But in compensation, the gentle incline of the railway track was lovely.

There were a few gates on this stretch and at one point we saw a young heifer who had somehow got herself onto the cycle path.  Jo came to the rescue by opening a gate and shooing her through it.  We just hoped it was the right field.

There were two large climbs today, one of which actually made it into Simon Warren’s ‘Cycling Climbs of Scotland’ book, so I was keen to tackle that one.  It started in Creetown and was a four-mile slog up to some radio masts at the summit. 

It looked to be a straightforward route once we left the town, so Jo set off first and then Jim.  At this point, due to various reasons, I was the only one with the route in my Garmin and when I got to the 2^nd bend, I realise that we needed to carry straight on, effectively turning right off the main road.  Sadly, Jo and Jim missed the turn and were out of earshot by the time I realised and so was unable to call them back.  So JP and I had to follow them, effectively reversing the day’s route.  That wouldn’t have been a problem for anyone else, but I really wanted to include that climb and doing it in reverse doesn’t count.  So I decided that I would simply complete the ride back to Creetown then if my legs were still OK, have a crack at the Cambret Hill climb before returning to Newton Stewart. 

The roads we followed today were divine once more.  It was a steady climb up the road we were then following, but then we enjoyed a wonderful sweeping six-mile descent into Gatehouse of Fleet which was the furthest point out. 

Whilst we were having a chat outside a pub, a chap nearby offered to ‘help’.  “Where are you heading for?”  he asked to which Jim replied that we were just following a GPS trace.  The man was insistent so I mentioned that we were taking the A75 for a mile or so before heading off up Cambret Hill.  “Ooh, do you have a death wish?” came the response.  I thought he must mean our plan to tackle the Cambret Hill climb, but no, it was the A75 he was concerned about and was insistent that we retraced our tracks to pass through a village called Anwoth, thus shortening the distance on the A75 by a half.  It would now just be a ¾ mile stretch.  Not wishing to offend, we followed his advice.  The A75, far from being death-wish alley like the man predicted,  turned out to be a lovely stretch of wide sweeping road with a good surface which descended gently.  I zipped down there at about 20mph and was actually disappointed to have to turn off.  At that point, not one vehicle had passed me!  I just hope that the guy giving advice never has to go to England if he thinks that this stretch of the A75 is dangerous.

The village of Anwoth is tiny but its derelict church and the old schoolhouse were used as a shooting location in the 1973 horror film, The Wicker Man.  Just in case you were interested…

The climb over Cambret Hill the ‘wrong’ way was OK; fairly gentle with a few steepish ramps.  At the summit, since I’d decided to tackle the climb once more the ‘right’ way, I elected not to climb the final 75 metres on a service road up to the masts, but to save that delight until later.  The descent into Creetown was just OK, the narrow road and poor surface ensuring the speeds were kept sensible.

The only café open in Creetown was the fine sounding Lairds Inn, so we headed there for lunch.  It was a holiday park.  Nothing wrong with holiday parks, mind, but I couldn’t imagine the Laird eating there.  His pile was in the grounds, but I don’t think we were allowed access.  After a cup of tea and a chicken baguette, I was sufficiently refreshed to tackle the objective of the day, Cambret Hill.

Here is where we made our farewells to Jo and JP as they weren’t bothered about riding the hill in the right direction.  They cycled back to their car in Newton Stewart while Jim and I returned to the start of the climb.  This time, there were no mistakes and we made it up to the masts without incident.  The views from the top were spectacular and certainly worth the effort.  After the second descent of the day into Creetown, it was just eight miles to Newton Stewart and we were soon back at the car and ready for the 3¼ hour drive home.

Overall, I rode just over 200 miles and collected 199 brand new Veloviewer tiles, some of them unique-ish.  Well, only Jim and I have cycled in them.  The climbing was 3,154 metres which is pretty average over that distance.  I was very pleased to note that the whole Machars peninsula (in Scottish Gaelic Machair Ghallghaidhealaibh – there you go Jim!) was so pleasingly undulating.  There were no big peaks (note that Cambret Hill is not in the peninsula) and the whole region is beautifully pastoral with plenty of cows.  The cows came in a surprising array of hues from black and white, through brown and grey.  Obviously, there were also plenty of the Belted Galloway cattle which are originally from this region.  I would like to return here at some point, perhaps choosing an area nearer to Stranraer as a base.  Watch this space.